Her dark skin was gypsy like
warm on my intrepid fingertips,
as I stroke her back
staring lazily at the tattoo
in the curve between her shoulder blades.
She rolls over and takes my hand
it makes the perfect physique.
We are perfect for a snapshot moment
before the realities of who we are
washes everything away in the blink of an eye.
I look up again
and you’re walking across the street
giving me a sanctimonious wave
without breaking stride in the least.
And I smile back
thinking about the pewter pendant
that covers where your heart is.
It’s part of her atheism and faith
and I know she sleeps with it on.
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